


Icarus Among the Stars

by stvrk



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - No Bending (Avatar TV), F/M, Inspired by The Fall of Icarus (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Romance, Slow Burn, Sort Of, zuko has a thing for the color blue, zutara rights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27722966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stvrk/pseuds/stvrk
Summary: "Go." His uncle looks at him, a fondness in his eyes that makes Zuko's heart lurch. "I can hold them off long enough to give you a head start but you must leave now."There are so many things Zuko wants to say to him, but the words won't come. "How?" He asks finally. The guards are shouting on the other side of the door, and someone is pounding a fist on the wood. It wouldn't be long before they break through and the passage beneath the palace had been sealed up per Zuko's own request.Iroh nods towards the corner where golden metal peeks out from behind cloth. "Take them, Zuko. Fly. Find somewhere better than this place."
Relationships: Katara & Zuko (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar), Sokka & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This was bound to happen eventually so we're just gonna ignore the fact that I have two other unfinished fics and let's see where this takes us :)
> 
> Loosely based on the Greek myth of The Fall of Icarus

Sunlight warmed his face as he fell, fell, fell forever towards the sea. He’d never felt so free, nor so sad. Was this how he’d die? Facing the sun, drowning, his body never to be found?

He supposed that if was going to die, at least he’d had a taste of true independence. And what better way to taste it than with the wind kissing his cheeks and the sun heating his bones?

Golden feathers fell around him, a shower of yellow rain glinting in the light.

There was so much he’d wanted to do before he died, though. There was a whole world he’d never gotten to see. He wondered at the Earth Kingdom, so secure and distant to the east, or the air temples secluded away from the rest of the world. And he thought of the water tribes, and their magic and mystery. He would’ve liked to meet more people from the water tribes.

Did they truly have magic there?

Would they have been any better than the Fire Nation?

He remembers blue eyes, he sees blue skies, and he can feel the blue vastness reaching up, up, up towards him.

He likes the color blue, he thinks. If he’s going to die, at least it’ll be with a blue memory.

The sea lifts up, reaches to embrace him.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to post this with the prologue cause I couldn't just write the prologue and NOT write the first chapter to go with it

The sun slanted down through the windows, making the workroom glow golden in the midafternoon light. Half-finished inventions stood against the walls or in stands, and various building components were littered across the floor. This was Zuko’s favorite place in the palace. It was warm, quiet, and always smelled faintly of jasmine tea. Better still, his father’s advisors never thought to look for him here. His uncle Iroh’s reputation for scaring off intruders kept most of the attendants far away from this small corner of the palace. It gave him some measure of comfort as he delayed the inevitable diplomacy lessons he would be forced to sit through at some point.

His uncle’s drawings were scattered across the table Zuko was seated at. Some were designs for new warships or tanks that his father would send to his engineers as soon as they landed in his hands. Zuko’s favorites, though, were the sketches Iroh sometimes left for him to find. There was a small caricature of Zuko feeding the turtleducks underneath a list of machine components. There was another picture of his cousin, Iroh’s son, done in beautiful detail that Zuko carefully set aside. He knew Iroh would burn it if he remembered it was there. He had trouble seeing pictures of Lu Ten, even those he himself drew, without breaking down.

Still, such a lovely piece of art shouldn’t be sacrificed to the flames. His uncle deserved to remember his son.

Zuko slid the turtleduck drawing and Lu Ten’s under his sleeve.

At the same time, Iroh burst into the room muttering something under his breath. He was carrying a stack of scrolls half his height and a few sheets of loose paper rained down from his arms as he lost his grip.

“Fools! How many times have I warned them? And still they think themselves to be gods.” Iroh let the rest of the stack fall from his arms as he collapsed onto a stool.

“Uncle?”

He glanced up, noticing Zuko’s presence. “Ah, I’m sorry, Prince Zuko. Ignore an old man’s ravings.” He tried to smile but it came out thin and strained.

“What’s going on?” Zuko left the worktable and knelt to gather the fallen scrolls.

He could see the conflict on Iroh’s face as his uncle debated what all he should reveal to Zuko. “It’s… complicated.”

“Uncle, if I’m supposed to lead this country one day, I should have some idea of what’s going on within it. Even if it is unsavory.” Zuko shared a smile with him. They both knew what kind of man Ozai was, and they knew even better what kind of leader he was. If intimidation couldn’t get Ozai what he wanted, then that was where Iroh’s designs came in.

“Still,” Iroh paused. “There are some things your father wants contained within his circle. Things even Azula does not know.”

That gave Zuko pause. Everyone knew Azula was the favored child. Although he was the eldest and had the strongest claim to the throne, most people in the Fire Nation expected her to one day bear the title of Fire Lord. But if Ozai had elected to keep even his prodigal daughter in the dark about his latest scheme, it must be something bold.

“Tell me.”

Iroh looked him, searching his face for something.

Zuko schooled his expression, ignoring the phantom pain in his left eye.

His uncle seemed to find whatever he was looking for in Zuko and sighed. “What I am going to tell you does not leave this room.” He stood up and shut the door, locking it for good measure. “You are familiar with the water tribes to the south?”

Zuko nodded. Of course he was familiar. Every child old enough to attend school learned of the primitive tribes that made their homes in the arctic poles. They were supposed to be a simple culture, and though they had often feuded with the Fire Nation, they’d never been much of a threat in the past.

That had been years ago, though, and interactions with them in the past century had become practically nonexistent.

Zuko remembered his mother telling him fairytales about the magic that supposedly lived within the water tribes. Old stories spoke of people who could move water with their minds and stop a river in its tracks. The same stories also said that Fire Nation people could once summon flames with a thought. The tales had faded somewhat from his memory, but he’d always been fond of them. He liked to imagine those magicians dancing in the sky to create star showers and thunderstorms.

But that was years ago. If his people could truly control fire, then perhaps his childhood may have gone differently.

“There are rumors that the water tribes seek to move against the Fire Nation. Ozai is worried that they will try to usurp him.”

Zuko laughed. He couldn’t help it. “The water tribes are looking to overthrow the Fire Lord? But that’s impossible! They can’t possibly stand against him.”

“It does not matter whether they believe they can win or not. It is that they would try that makes Ozai angry. And we both know what happens when your father is angry.”

The laughter stopped as suddenly as it started. Zuko found he couldn’t meet his uncle’s gaze and so he set his eyes on the scrolls in his hand.

The words didn’t make sense to him. The one on top featured some of Iroh’s drawings, always recognizable to Zuko in their beautiful lines and full strokes. The descriptions gave him pause, though.

“These are…” His eyes met Iroh’s once again.

“It’s genocide.” Iroh whispered. “Your father plans to eradicate the water tribes completely before they can make a move.”

“But-” Zuko looked down again at the scrolls. Detailed battle maps describing troop deployment and formations filled his sight. And the _designs._ Ships like none Zuko had ever seen before, done in hurried sketches, were resplendent on the pages. They were huge, monstrous, and absolutely devastating.

Zuko may have forgotten many of the stories his mother had told him of the water tribe, and their presence might have been a faint afterthought in his mind for years, but the idea of the culture being completely wiped out left him feeling… something.

His uncle seemed to share his thoughts.

“But why?” He finally asked. “Does it have to be this… extreme?”

“Your father would say that it’s the only way.”

“And you? What do you say?” Zuko hated letting his uncle know just how much he relied on Iroh’s opinions. Usually he tried to be more subtle.

“I think it’s a mistake.” It was said so plainly that it took Zuko a moment to understand the words.

“You- you disagree with my father?”

“It would not be the first time I disagree with Ozai, but this,” Iroh sat back on his heels and ran a hand down his face. He looked so old in the moment, the creases around his eyes and mouth more pronounced than usual. “We may have been enemies from the very beginning of our two nations, but the water tribe does not deserve to be eradicated. No, indeed I believe that we may need them as much as they need us.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I do not expect you to understand. I had hoped something like this would not happen for a long, long time.”

“But Uncle,” Zuko set the scrolls down on the table, ignoring the shakiness in his knees as he stood. “Why now? Why would the water tribes move against us now? We’re the strongest we’ve been in decades, and there hasn’t been any serious conflict between us for years. Why would they risk starting a war with us when they have no chance of winning it?”

There was another long pause. When Iroh still did not answer, Zuko turned back towards him.

“What haven’t you told me?”

Iroh met his gaze. “They didn’t start it.”

“What?”

“The water tribes did not start this conflict. We did.”

“What do you mean?” Zuko’s head was spinning. Just how much happened between his father and the advisors? An entire war was on the brink of breaking out and Zuko was learning about it behind a locked door from a man who could be tried for treason for telling him.

“We… took something from them. An artifact. In their culture, it has incredible spiritual powers, but for us, well, it is a treasure that cripples our enemies. Your father sent people to retrieve it when he heard of it and now they know we have it.”

“What-”

Just then a series of frantic knocks came from the door.

“General Iroh! General Iroh, are you there?”

His uncle gave him a stern look that said, _say nothing,_ then stood and unlocked the door. “What is it? What’s so important that you are interrupting me while I’m working?”

The palace aide that stood on the other side slid his eyes over to Zuko, wariness written into his posture. “You need to come with me, sir. Fire Lord Ozai requests your presence at once.” The words were careful, rehearsed, but there was enough genuine panic in the aide’s expression that Zuko knew something had happened.

_Have the water tribes attacked us?_ Zuko wondered.

Iroh spared one last look at his nephew and smiled wanly. “It looks like we’ll have to find another time to try that new tea blend I brought back from the city. I shall return later.”

It was an invitation for Zuko to stay or go, but he felt too jittery to remain in the workshop any longer.

“Perhaps tomorrow, Uncle. I think I’ll go for a walk in the gardens.”

“No!” The aide’s shout made both Zuko and Iroh jump in surprise.

“Excuse me?”

“What I mean to say is, perhaps Prince Zuko should remain in East Wing. Or return to his living quarters. It looks as though it might rain, and I wouldn’t want the prince to be caught in a storm.” The aide bowed low.

Zuko looked out towards the big window on the other side of the room where unfiltered sunlight cut a golden beam to the floor. “Rain?” He raised an eyebrow and glanced back towards the aide.

“A storm, Prince Zuko.” The aide said firmly, head still bowed to the floor.

Zuko considered the man for a moment, then sighed. “A walk inside the palace, then. I need to stretch my legs.”

The aide twitched but said nothing and Zuko took it as a confirmation that at least he would be free to roam around within the walls of the palace. Whatever Ozai was planning would once again be kept from him.

_At least I know something Azula doesn’t, for once,_ he thought.

Iroh nodded once to him, a short, informal bow, and then hurried away with the aide.

Zuko took a last glance at the workshop. Golden metal caught his eye as it reflected the sun’s low rays. There was something hidden slightly in the corner underneath a sheet of plain fabric.

Zuko cocked his head. It seemed Iroh was working on something new and secretive. He wondered if it was a personal project or something horrible for Ozai.

He shuddered and looked away. Whatever it was, he would wait until Iroh presented it to him to see.

He left the workroom, already missing its soothing atmosphere and headed towards the East Wing where the royal family lived. He hadn’t intended to follow the aide’s suggestion but perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more cautious, especially if there was violence brewing in the south.

The halls were silent save for his footsteps and Zuko pointedly ignored the giant portraits lining the walls. He didn’t need to look up to feel the disproving stares coming from his ancestors. Ozai had already inherited the infamous scowl. Zuko wondered if he too would look so angry as he got older.

_I already look angry all the time,_ he thought to himself, a frown tugging at the ends of his lips.

As his mood darkened, Zuko noticed the hallway was suddenly less quiet. There was another set of footsteps now besides his own, and these were moving at a much more rapid pace.

Zuko turned just in time to see a pair of clear blue eyes, wide against a face so unlike his own, before a body crashed into him and sent them both tumbling to the floor.

He managed to let out a muffled yelp before a hand covered his mouth and angry voice hissed in ear, “ _Quiet!_ ”

Affronted, Zuko opened his mouth to start yelling in earnest when something cold and sharp was set against his neck.

He swallowed deeply, his throat bobbing against the blade.

“I said, _quiet.”_ It was a boy, no older than Zuko. He looked strange and foreign in his blue clothing and furs. His hair was shaved on the sides, leaving a short tail on top and his hand was cool against Zuko’s mouth. He was perhaps the oddest-looking person Zuko had ever seen.

Apparently satisfied that Zuko would not try screaming, the boy moved his hand away from Zuko’s mouth and grabbed his arm.

“Come on.”

The blade hadn’t left Zuko’s throat and he stood shakily.

_He’s water tribe,_ Zuko thought. _The attack has happened and there are water tribe agents in the palace. Where is Uncle?_

Zuko realized he was afraid. He hadn’t felt fear like this since he-

_I was thirteen._

The boy yanked his arm, tugging him further down the hall, towards the living quarters. “Quick.”

Unable to resist, Zuko followed, his attention divided between the stark fear directed at the blade against his throat and the dumb fascination at seeing a real water tribe person before him. His head felt dizzy at the rush of emotions assaulting his senses.

“In here.” The boy yanked him into an empty guest suite at the end of the hallway. He shoved Zuko into the room and glared at him before locking the door. The blade finally left his neck as the boy crouched down in front of the door, his ear pressed against the wood as he listened for any sounds of pursuit.

With the threat gone, Zuko tried to calm his erratic heartbeat. When he felt like he could finally breathe again, he turned his full attention to the boy in front of him.

_Why haven’t I screamed for help?_

The boy clutched the dagger tightly, but he didn’t look at Zuko. It was a pretty weapon, Zuko thought. A silver blade with faint etchings that were as foreign as the one holding it. The grip looked to be made of a dark leather, and it seemed older than the boy himself.

The boy closed his eyes, which Zuko thought was a dumb move considering he’d locked himself in a room with the crown prince of the Fire Nation.

Then Zuko realized. The boy was afraid. As afraid of Zuko and whoever was after them as Zuko had been of him.

He opened his eyes again and looked over at Zuko and Zuko was struck once more by the clarity within that blue.

_Does everyone in the water tribes have eyes like those?_

The boy said nothing. It was as if his courage had run out as soon as he locked the door behind them.

“What do you want?” Zuko said in a low voice. He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t tried signaling any nearby guards but something inside him wanted to _learn._ Before this day, the water tribe people were a fantastical race of strange, icy magicians. Now there was one before him, young and alone and looking so, so desperate.

The boy’s eyes froze into a cold glare. “I want to get out of this place alive. Somehow I don’t think you’re gonna help me with that.” His gaze flicked up to the crown resting on Zuko’s head. Realization dawned and the boy met his eyes once more. “Now I’ve really done it, haven’t I?”

Zuko cocked his head. “How did you even get in here? There are guards posted in every corner of the palace. You shouldn’t have been able to even reach the gardens.”

The boy scoffed. “When you’re the most powerful nation in the world, you also become the cockiest. It was almost too easy to-” He broke off and glared at Zuko once more. “Oh, no. Nope. I’m not giving us up just like that, fire boy.”

“Us?” Zuko cocked his eyebrow.

The boy’s face fell. “Aw.” His forehead met the flat of the blade and he slapped it a few times. “Stupid, Sokka. Stupid, stupid, stupid.”

“Sokka? Is that your name?”

Sokka looked up again, an expression in those blue eyes that reminded Zuko a bit of the baby turtleducks in the gardens.

“I’m Zuko.”

“No offense, but I don’t really care what your name is. Why haven’t you given me up yet?”

“You had a dagger to my throat!”

Sokka sighed, staring at the blade. “Can’t even threaten properly.” He said to himself. “Okay, _Zuko,_ ” His name sounded strange coming from the boy. “I have a knife, but obviously I can’t do anything to you with it. Why haven’t you yelled for help?”

“I-” He didn’t know. He didn’t know why he was trying to talk with Sokka instead of fighting him. That’s what Ozai would do, he was sure. Ozai would have killed the boy on sight.

Somehow, the thought of hurting someone else made bile rise in Zuko’s throat.

_He’s no older than I am,_ Zuko thought. _And he’s not alone._

“You have allies.”

Sokka nodded.

“They’re in the palace.”

He nodded again.

“Where?”

The boy said nothing.

“Look, I’m clearly not against you right now.” Zuko fell silent as the sound of people running filled the corridor outside. Muffled orders came quick and harried as groups split up.

The door handle rattled.

Sokka’s eyes grew wide with terror as he watched the knob shake.

Someone grunted on the other side and they yelled to others in the hallway. Then, a body was thrown against the door. Hinges shook and they rammed against the door again.

Zuko watched Sokka.

The door trembled, Sokka trembled.

Zuko stood.

Sokka glanced at him. There was a bead of sweat rolling down the boy’s temple. He looked resigned and terrified all at once.

Zuko pointed towards the adjoining room in the suite. _Hide,_ he mouthed.

Sokka was frozen for a second, then he dashed away.

Once the boy was out of sight, Zuko unlocked the door.

_What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I_ doing?

The door flew open with the force of a platypus bear barreling into the room and three guards tumbled to the floor.

They scrambled to their feet at the sight of Zuko and bowed. “Prince Zuko. We’re looking for an intruder. Someone saw him come this way, and we think he may be hiding in one of the rooms.” The guard who was speaking glanced up, a question in his eyes as he took in the sight of Zuko standing in an abandoned guest suite.

Zuko cleared his throat and tried to sound commanding. “Yes! Well, I heard the commotion and figured as much. So, I…” Zuko tried not to look towards the adjoining room. “I took shelter in here! In case the intruder, you know, tried to find me.” He finished weakly.

The guards nodded. “Of course. Please let us know if you see him. We will capture him quickly and he will be put to face the Fire Lord.” They bowed again and backed away towards the door. “And Prince Zuko?”

Zuko froze, his hand twitching at his side. “Uh hm?”

“You may want to lock the door behind us. With a dangerous criminal on the loose, we wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” He watched them leave and breathed a sigh of relief once they had disappeared. Then he turned to the adjoining room and went to look for Sokka.

He found the boy huddled next to the bed, his hands curled tightly around the dagger. He looked at Zuko with a curious expression.

“You didn’t tell them where I was.”

“No.”

“Why?”

Zuko didn’t answer. He didn’t know how to. Everything seemed so wrong. His actions were wrong, Sokka was wrong, the guards were wrong. Everything was going differently to how he had imagined.

Sokka was supposed to be some fearsome tribal warrior, not this scared boy. Zuko was supposed to subdue the water tribe criminal and force him before his father to be judged and imprisoned. The guards were…

Everything was so _wrong._

He remembered his uncle’s face when he told Zuko that war with the water tribes may be coming. He had looked so regretful.

“Come on.” Zuko held his hand out to Sokka who took it cautiously. “We have to move quickly. The guards will sweep this hallway again before long and they won’t stop at my presence next time.”

He led Sokka from the room and back into the corridor. When he had determined the coast to be clear, he began hurrying back towards his uncle’s workshop. “There’s a way out. Not even the guards know about it. I used to take it when I wanted to get out of my lessons, but I haven’t gone down here in years.”

The workshop was the same as when he’d left it, though the sun hung lower in the sky now.

He guided Sokka to the corner where he started patting at the stones.

“What are you _doing?_ ” Sokka hissed, glancing at the door to the workshop, paranoia making his movements stiff.

“I told you I haven’t used this passage in years. Give me a second.” He let out a little noise of triumph when his fingers scraped over a stone that protruded out a bit more from the others. “Here.” Pushing the stone in, he felt a small hum of satisfaction at the expression on Sokka’s face as a narrow doorway was revealed.

“Woah.”

“My uncle is the greatest inventor and engineer in the Fire Nation. Of course he’d have secret tunnels built into his workshop.”

“How come you’re showing this to me?” Sokka asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, how do you know I’m not gonna use this to come back and do evil things?”

Zuko started into the passage, not looking back to see if Sokka was following. “You couldn’t go through with your death threats before. What makes you think I believe you’ll be able to do it next time?”

He heard Sokka huff and then begin to trail him. “Fine. But how do you know I won’t tell my allies about it?”

Zuko stopped and glanced back him. “Will you?”

“I-” This time, it seemed like Sokka didn’t know how to answer the question.

“Don’t worry. I’m going to tell my uncle to seal this thing up. Even if you wanted to, you won’t find this passage again.”

Zuko pretended not to hear the sigh of relief come from Sokka. It seemed he wasn’t the only one conflicted in his role.

The passage continued straight for a few paces before sloping downwards. Their footsteps were muffled by the dirt floor and it was quiet save for their soft breaths. At one point, it got so steep Zuko had to place one hand on the ground behind him to keep from sliding forward. His robes made it hard to keep his footing and he prayed he wouldn’t face plant the dirt in front of Sokka. Then, the path levelled out once more and curved to the right before ending at a short ladder. The rungs were old, and dusted in cobwebs, but it seemed sturdy enough to hold the two of them.

Zuko started to climb and then pushed at the hatch at the top of the tunnel.

Unlocked, it lifted up and violet light filled the passage. The sun was beginning to set, throwing the world into soft lilacs and pinks.

Sokka followed him up the ladder until the two of them were huddled behind some bushes at the far end of the palace grounds.

Zuko could see the window to his uncle’s workshop on one of the higher floors some distance away.

“You should be safe now. You can leave the way you came; however you came.”

Sokka was watching him. His blue eyes were unsettling. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I. Don’t mention this. Or _I’ll_ end up in front of the Fire Lord.”

Sokka smiled. It was a crooked, genuine one, and it made Zuko feel a little lighter. Like he’d done the right thing. Had he done the right thing?

“I’ll see you around, Zuko.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I really hope you don’t.”

This time, Sokka laughed. It wasn’t loud but Zuko’s head was swiveling to look for any bystanders all the same. When he looked back towards the boy, he was gone. All that was left to prove he’d been there at all was a small ivory figurine in the dirt. It looked to be carved in the shape of a wolf and was no bigger than the length of his thumb.

Zuko picked it up, studying the delicate features on the wolf’s face.

Had Sokka meant to leave it there?

He searched the trees at the edge of the grounds but not even a leaf rustled.

_Oh God,_ Zuko thought. _What have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is way longer than I thought it'd be and it still feels like I moved really fast through a lot of shit but hey, it's just a fanfic and I'm just here for a good time. As long as you guys like it, all's well.


	3. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did tag this as slow burn lmao so it may be a few chapters before we get to see katara but hopefully I can keep you entertained as we progress through the plot first

“They’ve robbed me! In _my_ palace! How could you let this happen?” Ozai paced the length of the chamber as officials, military leaders, and advisors shuffled nervously along the edges of the room. It was moments like these that Zuko could almost believe the legends of Fire Nation people summoning fire. Ozai looked as if the carpet beneath him might burst into flame at any moment. The great braziers lining the walls didn’t help the image, casting the room in a warm, red hued tone.

Sweat dripped down the side of Zuko’s neck. It was so _hot_ in here. His robes were stuffy, and they trapped the heat in like a summer’s day.

Zuko tried to meet his uncle’s eyes but the man was too far down to see him.

He wanted to know what Iroh was thinking. Was he angered at the thought of Water Tribe spies sneaking into the palace and stealing _something_ from Ozai? Would he still defend them to Zuko? More importantly, what would he think of Zuko helping one of them escape?

His face felt clammy and pale, and he tried to keep his gaze level.

What would Ozai do to him if he found out?

Zuko could guess at the stolen item Ozai was ranting about. But if his uncle had told him the truth, then it seemed the Water Tribe had only stolen back what had been taken from them. He knew better than to say such thoughts aloud, though.

He fought the urge to scratch at his left eye. 

Ozai was still screaming, gesturing wildly to the men he’d put in charge of security around the palace.

Zuko was a bit surprised he’d called so many people in to witness this meeting. He counted a dozen advisors, six representatives from the military, including Admiral Zhou, and five officials running different sections within the government. Iroh stood further down the line, far enough away from the others that he would not be mistaken as having involvement with them. Despite his title of General, Zuko knew his uncle hadn’t been a part of the Fire Nation Army in years.

Azula was also there.

Zuko made the mistake of looking her way and she caught his gaze with a sly grin. She’d been watching him.

The brief feeling of triumph he’d held knowing that he had information that she did not quickly dissipated. Something told him that she knew far more than he or Iroh had given her credit for.

It wouldn’t surprise him if Ozai had told Azula of the brewing conflict before he’d told anyone else.

He pointedly did not look in her direction again, even with her eyes burning a hole in the side of his head.

The two of them stood on either side of Ozai’s throne. He could see the golden dragon that hung above them reflected in the dark stone floors. Its gilded eyes stared at him. It was as if the beast knew what he’d done. It knew he’d betrayed his nation and his blood.

Ozai’s rant was heating up below.

_“Barbarians. Shameless. Pathetic.”_ Malice dripped from every word as Ozai went into detail about every disgusting quality he could think of about the Water Tribes. “And yet,” He froze, a deadly calm coming over his demeanor.

Zuko suppressed a shudder. He preferred the screaming to this horrible, _terrible_ serenity that seemed to come over his father when he was in one of his darkest rages.

“Somehow,” Ozai continued. “They managed not only to make it into my palace. Into my vault. They got. Back. Out.” Fire flashed in Ozai’s eyes as he turned to stare into the souls of every person in the room. He bit into each word like a predator tears into prey. “I can’t imagine they’re more advanced than my security. Which leaves me with only the idea that they somehow got help from _within._ ” He hissed out the last word.

The chamber was silent. No one wanted to contradict the Fire Lord, and no one wanted to give him any reason to think he was right.

“I want the heads of any Water Tribe ally, sympathizer, anyone who so much as _sells a bowl of milk_ to someone with information. I will not be made a fool of.”

The room bowed and Ozai stalked out.

At his departure, the heat seemed to lessen just enough that Zuko sucked in a deep breath. There was no way Ozai would know about Sokka. Besides, there had been more people who’d gotten in than just one boy. Zuko had seen nothing in the way of any other Water Tribe agents.

It would be fine, he told himself. One day, this would just be a faint, anxious memory.

A part of him did wonder at the artifact Ozai had been so intent on stealing and so furious at its loss. A weapon of some kind? Something that could give the Water Tribes an edge over the Fire Nation if war did break out?

He wanted so badly to run to Iroh and ask but the risk felt too great. He needed to seem detached. As far as Ozai knew, this meeting was the first time Zuko would have heard of any conflict with the Water Tribes. As far as Ozai knew, this was the first time Zuko had heard of them infiltrating the palace. The less he knew, or pretended to know, the better.

Azula was still smirking at him.

He gritted his teeth and made for the exit. The others had huddled together, muttering their speculations and ideas. He pushed through them, ignoring their bows as he passed.

_No one knows. No one will find out what I did,_ Zuko chanted to himself internally. _But why did I_ do _it? Why did I put myself in this situation?_

He tried to imagine some other course of action he could have taken but all that came to mind was the image of Sokka’s head resting at the base of Ozai’s throne. His blue eyes would be cold and dim.

Zuko shuddered. He couldn’t have done it. He _knows_ he couldn’t have done it, but it didn’t make it any easier with the heavy hand of paranoia pushing his shoulders and head down.

He made for Iroh’s workshop, already feeling some of the tension lift at the thought of the warm sun heating his cheeks pleasantly through those big windows.

When he arrived, Iroh was already there.

_How did he move so fast?_ Zuko had been one of the first to exit the chamber after the Fire Lord. He shook his head and decided not to question the strange things he knew his uncle was capable of at times.

“Ah, Prince Zuko,” Iroh greeted him. He’d been writing something down, but at Zuko’s appearance, he pushed aside the paper and ink and rose to meet him. “Have you come to try the new tea blend I told you about?”

Zuko shut the door to the workshop and slid the lock into place. “Yes, Uncle. I’d love to try some.”

One eyebrow rose in question but Iroh said nothing in response. He turned and began rummaging through some drawers below the desk he’d been seated at and pulled out a pair of teacups.

Zuko was about to speak when Iroh held up a hand. “The teapot.” He pointed to the corner of the room where a teapot had been set over a small stove. The stove had been installed after Iroh had complained loudly one too many times to some kitchen staff that the tea was never hot enough once it had been brought to his workshop.

Zuko sighed but marched over. Under his uncle’s critical eye, he heated up the water, then poured it over a measure of tea leaves Iroh had set aside.

He turned again but Iroh was still giving him the look.

Foot tapping impatiently, Zuko waited nearly the full minute before rushing over and pouring the tea into the cups. “May I speak now?”

Iroh picked up one cup, surprisingly delicate in his wide hands, and inhaled deeply. With a deliberate composure to his muscles, he lifted the cup to his lips and took a sip. “Mm,” Iroh rumbled with satisfaction. “You’ve gotten very good at this, nephew.”

Zuko fought down the pleased smile that tried to take over his face. He needed to focus. “I’m glad to hear it, Uncle _._ I wonder, though, if I may speak about _other matters._ ”

Iroh took another sip and nodded.

“Do you remember that passageway you showed me when I was a child?”

Surprise flitted over Iroh’s features and he glanced at the wall where the hidden door was.

“I think I’m far too old for adventures like those. There’s really no need for them anymore.”

Iroh set the teacup down. “I understand.”

Zuko searched his face. Did he really understand? Did he know what Zuko was trying to tell him?

“I’ll take care of it.” Iroh nodded at him and Zuko knew without a doubt that his uncle had understood the message. “But I wonder, Prince Zuko, what if you make friends? You would want to show them these things, wouldn’t you?” His eyes were sharp and Zuko suddenly understood why some called his uncle the Dragon of the West.

He swallowed. “I don’t have any friends. You know that.”

Humming, Iroh gave him a small smile. “I think you’re better at making friends than you give yourself credit for.” With that, he closed his eyes and resumed sipping at his tea.

The conversation was over. Zuko breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to tell his uncle about the entire encounter with Sokka, but he knew he would only be putting Iroh in the same danger he himself was already in.

They sat in companionable silence for a several minutes, finishing off the remainder of the tea. It was good, Zuko had to admit. It had steeped just long enough to give it a pleasant aroma without becoming too overwhelming or bitter.

After a while, Zuko stood and bid farewell to his uncle. Despite not having done much, he felt exhausted. All he really wanted to do was return to his rooms and pass out for a few hours. He figured he had at least that much time before someone summoned him.

He began the long trek back to his quarters, passing whispering servants and jumpy guards along the way. It appeared news had spread throughout the palace of the mysterious Water Tribe trespassers and everyone was walking on thin ice.

Zuko could understand the feeling.

He reached the entrance to his quarters and felt the stiffness in the back of his neck release a bit when the doors closed behind him.

He stayed there for a moment, the door against his back, fingers rubbing at his temples.

“Where have you been, Zuzu?

Zuko’s head shot up at his sister’s voice to find her lounging on the edge of his bed as if _he_ had intruded into _her_ rooms.

She was twirling something in her fingers, and she grinned at him. “Well, I thought that meeting went well, didn’t you?”

“What are you doing here, Azula?” Keeping his voice steady was harder than he cared to admit. Something about his sister had always unnerved him, though Zuko refused to let her know that.

“I wanted to check up on you. Why? Can’t I see how my big brother is doing after such an eventful few days?” Azula swung her legs down to the floorboards and leaned back on her hands, a picture of innocent curiosity. “I thought you looked rather uneasy back in the meeting hall.”

Zuko swallowed. “I’m fine. You can leave now.”

There was that smirk again. “So uptight, Zuzu. It’s funny to see such a stiff face from you when you still play with toys.” She opened her palm to show what she’d been twirling earlier.

Zuko went cold.

It was the wolf figurine. He’d left it in his nightstand after Sokka’s disappearance to give himself some time to figure out what to do with it. He knew he should have thrown it away immediately. Any evidence that could link him to the Water Tribe could have him thrown into prison.

_Or worse,_ he thought, his scar throbbing in tune with his rapid heartbeat.

But he hadn’t wanted to throw the carving away. It was stupid and sentimental and absolutely ridiculous of him to even consider keeping it, but Zuko _liked_ the gift. No one had ever given him anything like it before. Besides, no one ever went into his rooms to rummage around because he never kept anything interesting in them. All of his treasures were stowed away within Iroh’s workshop or buried in the palace gardens.

He cursed the foolish part of his brain that didn’t think to bury the wolf as soon as he’d seen it.

Of course, Azula would find it. She had a habit of rooting out the things most precious to Zuko and examining them like a science project.

“Put that back.” He said, trying to sound as neutral as possible with his heartbeat pounding into his throat.

Azula studied the carving. “An interesting little toy. I’ve never seen anything like it. Where’d you get it?” Her eyes slid to him once more, picking apart every twitch and stuttered inhalation.

“I’ve had that thing for years. It was a gift from Uncle after one of his expeditions. You know the strange things he always comes back with to show us.”

“No.”

“What?”

“Iroh’s never given me anything from any of his trips.” Azula’s face was like stone. He was sure she could read his every thought but trying to figure out what was going on in her mind was impossible.

“Oh, well,” The room suddenly felt oppressive in the silence that stretched between them. “It’s not that big a deal anyway. Just leave it.”

The ivory wolf disappeared and reappeared between Azula’s fingers as she twisted it around, searching for something on it. “Would you give it to me?”

“ _You_ want it?” Panic flared in Zuko’s chest as he realized he really, _really_ did not want to give the wolf up to Azula.

“It’s different. I like it. Why? You don’t want me to have it?”

“I-” Zuko tried to think of some reason to refuse.

_If she takes it and looks into it, she might discover it’s Water Tribe. But if I tell her no, it’ll make her suspicious._

“Fine. Whatever. It’s just a figurine.”

Azula seemed surprised at his concession. She lifted the wolf up to her nose, going almost cross eyed as she stared at it. It was a few seconds before she replied. “You’re right. It is just a stupid, little thing. Keep it.” She tossed the wolf behind her and it landed on the bed, bouncing a few times to rest on the edge. A harder throw and it might have fallen off and shattered. “I’m going to question the guards. Father has allowed me to lead the investigation into the Water Tribe thieves and I for one don’t plan on disappointing him.” She left with an eerie smile on her face and a slight wave of her fingers in Zuko’s direction.

As soon as the door shut behind her, Zuko was lunging after the wolf. He held it close to his eyes, looking for any sign that would give it away as a Water Tribe token. As far as he could tell, though, the figurine was bare save for the small grooves that represented the fur and the wolf’s simply carved face.

_Why did Sokka even give this to me? What’s it supposed to mean?_

He told himself that he would get rid of it as soon as possible. It was too risky, now.

In that moment, however, he didn’t see how there could be any harm in holding on to it. _Just for the night,_ he thought.

Zuko undressed and slipped into the bed, clutching the wolf tightly in his palm. He was still staring at it when his eyes finally drifted shut. That night, he dreamed of cool winds, salty lips, and laughing blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please don't expect updates from me this quickly I swear I'm really bad about updates but I will try to keep this going as quickly as possible in between finishing my other fic

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to the atla fandom and idk what I'm doing here but I like zutara so pls have some


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